My Lady Highlande

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “What the…what was that?” Bull asked.

  “The sun has nearly set, the food and drink consumed, the feats of strength completed. ‘Tis time for them to find pleasure in the arms of a woman.”

  “But that scream came from the castle!” Bull jumped to his feet.

  Gavin pulled him to the ground. “I have a feeling she is with our father. We must hurry.”

  “Then why did you grab me?”

  “There be no sense letting the warriors see us. Since most are well occupied here, we shall sneak into the castle through the other side,” Niall whispered.

  “Let’s get moving!” Crouching, Bull headed back into the thick of the forest. When safely hidden by the branches, he stood and waited for Niall and Gavin. Since he was out of his element, he followed their lead. A few warriors followed at a distance. They marched quietly and quickly, and headed for the other side of the castle.

  “Maybe I could use this method to sneak up on my students,” he muttered.

  “Quiet, Bull.”

  Whether it was Gavin or Niall who chastised him, he deserved it. Keeping to the plan, he followed the Sinclair brothers, while he fingered the borrowed dirk at his waist. He was thankful Niall had lent it to him.

  ***

  “Maybe the warrior I nearly killed, while in my deer form, would pay to get her back.” Jaden-Tog’s laughter echoed across the bailey. As he slithered down the wall, his pretty quarry raced toward the gate. The portcullis was down, but he mumbled a few words, then whistled.

  The high-pitched peal was followed by a squeak of metal against wood as his magic made the gate rise. While guards raced from all directions, his magic made them unable to see him, nor the little beauty. Through the sudden gray mist that swirled around their heads, he used his senses to follow her. Gripping the stones of the castle, he crept stone by stone, until he dropped to the bailey.

  Once on solid ground, he changed into his deer form and skittered through the open gate. As her running footsteps headed deeper into the forest, he followed. His large creature ears tracked the slap of her bare feet. The farther they traveled from the castle, the more he wondered where he would hide her, until he found her warrior. He would get his payment one way or another.

  “Do ye know where yer headed, lass?” His question came out as an animalistic squeak. She glanced over her shoulder, but she could only see a small doe. She continued to run, snapping branches and slapping falling leaves from hair.

  He had secretly aided the scarred henchman who had abducted the little woman, when she walked alone into the meadow. They were near Sinclair land, and he hoped the brute wearing the Sinclair plaid would bring her here. He figured that his actions would earn him a reward.

  He should have known better.

  Had she recognized her surroundings before his magic wove around her with a thick curtain of smoke? Could she find her way back? Since the warrior with whom she traveled, was his best chance for reward, he would stop her before she reached him.

  “Holy Faerie Queen!” he squeaked. She ran and jumped over downed trees like a wild stag. Her small stature had little effect on her speed. He was losing ground.

  In order to gain on her, Jaden-Tog transformed into a wolf. The growl of pure pleasure echoed through the woods, and his heightened senses could smell her fear. She had not feared the Sinclair, but she was afraid.

  Of me.

  He tried coaxing his jowls to smile, but they snapped shut. His nostrils flared. Appetizing scents intensified. He was hungry, and the smell of roasting meat was intoxicating. The scent meant a camp was near. He must stop her before she reached safety.

  When his wolf persona attempted to take over his body, his brownie mind turned to mud. His last clear thought was the urge to bite into raw flesh. His jowls opened, and his teeth snapped. The din of falling water grew louder, as they approached the stream, and the camp.

  When he jumped over a dead stump, hot on her trail, a branch struck his right ear. His wolf form rolled head over heels, and came to rest against a boulder. Pushing to all fours, his legs wobbled and his tongue lolled, dripping saliva onto the mossy forest floor. His head stopped spinning, and the ringing in his ears settled to a din. An ominous shadow stood over him.

  “Why are ye following me?”

  The wolf growled.

  “I know ‘tis ye beneath the fur, Jaden-Tog. Show yer true self, or I will scream and bring the entire camp of warriors here in a heartbeat. Their swords will smite ye from this life before ye have a chance to escape.” Izzy was startled by the fierceness of her own words, but she would not allow Niall and his men to kill the beast, before he shared the entire story about the Sinclair and their murder pact. If Gavin was part of it, and was aware his father wanted her dead, he would answer to her.

  The laird was Gavin’s blood relative. If the bastard was also in need of land, he would naturally covet her farm. Its rich grazing land abutted the wilderness of the Sinclair forest, and was near their castle. Until she discovered the truth about Gavin’s innocence, or his part, in The Sinclair’s attack, her life was in danger from many avenues.

  Including the wolf at my feet.

  If they assumed Bull was here as her protector, he might be attacked next. Jenny’s fate she could not foresee, but if Gavin or Niall used their friendship to force Izzy’s hand, then Jenny was also in danger.

  “I should have hidden in my tent, and gone on with my life.”

  Jaden-Tog growled, then sparkled, as he transformed into a brownie. Once he reached his full three foot height, he tunneled his fingers through his ragged hair. Since she still held the branch, he glared up at her, while brushing twigs and leaves from his leather jerkin.

  “There, much better.” He looked at her, then at the branch clamped in her fist. “I will no’ harm ye.”

  “Ye delivered me to that bastard, The Sinclair.”

  He chuckled, but he would not meet her gaze. “ ‘Tis no profit in it anymore.”

  “That makes no sense. The Sinclair and his brood are still in want of what I refuse to give.” Although her words stemmed from the land issue, when she remembered the attack by the elder Sinclair, she shivered.

  “Aye, but the laird dinna’ hold to the bargain, and I doona’ approve of ravishing innocents.”

  Izzy was no innocent, but she saw no need to correct a brownie. He might not come to her rescue a second time. Still, when she recalled the way Bull touched her beneath the waterfall, her cheeks heated. She turned toward the direction of voices, to keep the magical creature from witnessing her embarrassment. She hoped the voices heralded Niall’s men, and Bull.

  Turning back to the odd little man, she wondered about his involvement. She had escaped when the laird argued with Jaden-Tog, but slipping through the castle gate did appear too easy.

  “Did ye distract him so I could escape?”

  “Aye, but ye may be heading toward more danger.” He nodded toward camp.

  “Niall and Gavin?”

  He nodded.

  “I understand, but if my friends are in danger, I shall help them. I must see them safely home, uninjured.” Recalling Bull’s scarred back, she cringed. Could she keep her vow?

  He stepped closer, and smiled up at her. “Allow me to help ye, lass.”

  “Why? There is no profit in helping me. Ye said so yerself.”

  “True, but I know the winning side when I see it. I can help ye with whatever ye need. However, doona’ be too hasty in yer attempt to leave. Yer farm and yer kin are in danger.”

  “What? Nay! If I keep hidden, and out of Gavin’s control, my property will be waiting for me when I find the time is safe to return.” Thoughts intruded…of Bull and his anger at finding that they had traveled back in time. Would she return with him to New England, or must she stay behind when he leaves?

  “Lass, yer farm is a pawn. Gavin Sinclair has set his sights on the rich meadows, the Highland cattle, and comfortable stone cottage. Yer tenant has taken good care of it, but h
as gone missing.”

  “What? Doona’ tell me my cousin has been harmed.”

  “Rae Wilson? I doona’ know. If he be smart, he dinna’ resist, but I fear he has possibly found a new home…in the laird’s cells. Taking your lands may be only one of the reasons why the Sinclair wants ye dead.”

  Had the moans from beyond her cell belonged to her cousin? Feeling dizzy, Izzy slapped her uninjured hand against a tree. Her other palm stung where The Sinclair laird’s large blade had sliced her flesh. When her imagination filled her head with images of her kin’s torture, or worse, her stomach lurched.

  “I will deal with saving Rae soon enough. What other reason has the laird to wish me ill besides stealing what be mine? Maybe I should agree to marry Gavin.”

  Jaden-Tog sighed, gently clasping her injured hand in his small grip. His skin was warm and calloused, as if he worked hard when he was not shape shifting into a gentle doe or a terrifying wolf.

  “Lass, the Sinclair believes yer beneath his son’s status. Even though Gavin Sinclair ‘tis only a younger son, and you own land and a decent home, the laird will no’ allow a marriage between Gavin and a peasant.”

  A bolt of searing heat shot through her injured hand. She inhaled a shocked breath at his words, and tugged her hand free. The wound was gone. His eyes spoke the truth, but what gave her pause were his unshed tears. His eyes glistened, as if he was truly concerned for her feelings. Izzy understood the Sinclair’s side, but Jaden-Tog must have known how much his words would hurt, yet he shared them anyway.

  Standing beside the tree, she inhaled the soothing aroma of moss and leaves. When the brownie clasped both small hands around one of hers, she did not flinch, again.

  ***

  The deeper they moved through the trees and dark underbrush, the more attuned Bull grew to the noises of the wilds. A wolf’s howl sounded too close for comfort. “Was that a woman’s stern voice?”

  When Niall threw up his fist and silently ordered them to stop. Bull couldn’t, not when the voice in the distance was familiar. It also sounded as if it came from the opposite direction of the castle. Had the bastard thrown her to the wolves? If he was lucky, he would save Izzy and kill the bastard who took her, or he’d die trying.

  Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

  Bull peered through the darkness, to the only spot of light left. Izzy stood near a small man, but she seemed okay. Though he wanted to forge ahead and gather her in his arms, he listened.

  “I understand, sir. I am good enough to defile, but no’ to wed,” Izzy said, pulling her hand free and fisted both hands on her hips. Night had fallen, but it appeared as if the little man’s eyes were glowing.

  “The truth hurts, lass.”

  “Fine. His loss. I will make someone a wonderful wife someday.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Bull said, stepping from his hiding spot.

  Izzy shrieked, turned too fast, and stumbled into Bull’s open arms. “How long have ye been spying on me?”

  “Spying? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Niall sent several men to track you in all directions, and I have an army in the woods behind me. We thought you were in the Sinclair’s castle. We were about to storm it.”

  “I was in a cell and then…I escaped.”

  “I can see that. How did you get away?” The moment Bull’s gaze landed on Jaden-Tog and recognized him as the creature that threw fire at him and Gavin inside Jake’s barn, his eyes glowered. Growling, he shoved Izzy behind him, and pulled a dirk from the sheath on his belt.

  “Where did ye get a weapon?” she asked.

  “Not now. Who is this creature?”

  Jaden-Tog huffed, and slapped his tiny fists on his hips. “Hold yer tongue, Highlander, I mean no harm to the lass. We were talking about her missing clansman.”

  Bull relaxed, and Izzy circled his waist with one arm, as if hoping her closeness would settle his agitated stance.

  “I am no Highlander.”

  “And I am no’ a creature. I am Jaden-Tog, a brownie. Fear my power, as ‘twas me who brought ye here.”

  “You!” Bull grabbed him around the neck, and lifted him off his feet.

  “Drop him,” Niall said, appearing at their side, his dirk unsheathed. “Ye doona’ want to feel his wrath.”

  “According to him, we already have. Send us back. Now!”

  Izzy pulled on Bull’s forearm, but the brownie’s face turned a sickening purple. “Niall, put away yer blade and help me free him. Bull is killing him!”

  Niall glared at her, but did her bidding. Jaden-Tog dropped to the ground, gagging, then rolled, until he stood safely behind her. “Thank ye,” the little man wheezed.

  Izzy glared at Bull’s fierce expression. His eyes blazed with hatred, and his shoulders shook. She never saw him threaten anyone’s life before. He was a big man, with more muscles than many of the warriors who stepped into their circle, but she never before feared he would harm another being.

  “I wasn’t going to kill him. I want him alive so he can send me away from this God-forsaken place!” Bull’s voice rose, his fury evident in his red face, and in the veins popping in his neck.

  In that one eye-opening moment, Izzy understood that Bull would never stay in the past. He planned to leave, as soon as humanly possible. She had no choice. She vowed to send him home. Would she accompany him, if she could?

  “I understand, Bull, but finding my cousin, Rae Wilson, comes first. Then we shall work to send ye home.” Her voice broke, and she strained to keep tears from falling down her cheeks. She would help send him back, then figure out what to do with her own life. The ache in her chest was pronounced. She would miss him.

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Bull said.

  Niall stepped closer, his eyes searching Bull’s face. Had he assumed Bull would go wherever Izzy chose to go? “Let us return to the safety of the camp and talk. Jaden-Tog will explain everything, or I will slay him myself.”

  The brownie smiled, unaffected by the venom in the Sinclair heir’s voice. When Bull grabbed Izzy’s elbow and shoved her ahead of him, the little man chuckled.

  Niall strode back to camp, mumbling Gaelic curses beneath his breath while Izzy, Bull, and Jaden-Tog followed on his heels. A woman’s familiar scream shattered the silence.

  “To camp!” Niall ordered.

  CHAPTER 15

  Bull’s concern propelled him into camp, with Izzy at his heels. Jenny stood, face pale, with her back flat against a pine tree, her arms spread, and hugging the trunk. Standing on her toes, her gaze lifted to Bull and the approaching warriors. A horse whinnied nearby, and the camp’s fire belched cinders. When twigs on the far side of the camp snapped, and Gavin appeared, with his sword raised, she shrieked again. Izzy brushed past Bull, but he grabbed her elbow, holding her back.

  “Let’s see what Gavin does,” he whispered in Izzy’s ear.

  “What ‘tis wrong, lass?” Gavin asked Jenny. His eyes flitted from Gavin, then to their group, and landed on the creature. The brownie continued to smile.

  “Did ye touch her?” Gavin cried, pointing his weapon at the brownie.

  “Lower yer weapon, brother. This little one has been with us, up the trail,” Niall said. He sheathed his sword, and crossed the campsite. “Lass? What scared ye?”

  “I’m so sorry. I was napping. When I woke up, I was alone except for the horse.” Jenny said, and pointed to the animal who was snoring soundly.

  “Why did you scream?” Bull asked.

  “A furry creature ran up my leg.” While her hands smoothed the front of her skirt, her eyes raced back and forth. To her right, leaves rustled. When a tiny nose peeked out of the pile, Jenny slid behind the tree.

  Niall and Bull laughed, but Gavin gathered Jenny in his arms, walking her away from the group.

  Izzy stomped a bare foot, and glared at Bull. He quieted, and she glared at Niall. “Ye grown men should no’ tease the lass. She doona’ know a pine martin is better for eatin’
, and no’ a threat. She is no’ here by choice. She dinna’ ask to come here, and she has no idea where here is, either.”

  Bull scratched his chest with his free hand, chagrined at the truth in Izzy’s words. He had experienced the same disconcerting fear when a sorcerer, and a witch, sent him barreling into the past, the first time. His friend Jake had helped explain what had happened, and where they had landed. No one had given Jenny much information. He released Izzy’s elbow, and trotted after Gavin.

  “Gavin. Wait a minute.”

  The man turned and released Jenny. “What is it now, Highlander?”

  Bull ignored the taunt. The nickname kept slapping him in the face, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

  “I want to talk to Jenny, unless you mean to explain all this to her.” He spread his arms to indicate the trail, forest, and meadows. Gavin nodded.

  “Explain what?” asked Jenny, “because my suspicions are scarier than the facts, I’m guessing.”

  Gavin inhaled a deep breath, while Bull waited. The hoot from an owl split the silence. Gavin clasped her hand in his, and kissed her knuckles. Bull shuddered at the intimate moment. He should leave them, but he didn’t trust Gavin to share the truth of the situation.

  “Gavin?” Jenny asked. Flames from the camp’s fire reflected in her inquisitive stare. Night was falling, and shadows hid the rest of their party.

  Bull listened, but wondered why his body didn’t react with jealousy. He had nothing more than brotherly concern for Izzy’s pretty neighbor.

  “Lass, ye got caught up in a power struggle and I am sorry ye did. Truly sorry.”

  “Gavin, how can this be your fault, whatever this is?” She looked around the forest.

  Gavin glanced at Bull.

  “Keep going,” Bull said. Gavin took another deep breath, and looked back at Jenny. As he opened his mouth to explain, a thunderous crash broke the stillness. They all turned toward the deer trail that led to the river. War cries echoed off the trees, a heartbeat before the camp filled with warhorses, carrying men bent on killing.

  ***

  Dozens of mounted warriors attacked Niall’s men. Swords slashed into shoulders, and heads twisted out of the way. The air filled with the scent of blood. Izzy squelched a scream, then glanced in the direction Gavin, Bull, and Jenny had walked moments ago. The two men stood shoulder to shoulder, protecting Jenny. Gavin had drawn a long sword and a dirk, but Bull had only a dirk and his fist. They were outnumbered, but on the far fringe of the camp. With any luck, they could melt into the trees.